Façade
by aevee
Summary: A Quistis-centric one-shot. "I am many things. I am nothing. I am a multi-faceted façade." Review after you read please!


AN: I'm a big Quistis fan, but with 'Shards of the Ice Queen' on hiatus, I thought I wasn't doing her justice, so I decided to write this one-shot. It might sound a little out of character, and for that, I apologize. I just wanted to show the inner turmoil that I thought might be brewing inside of her, and I needed to get rid of my today's-addiction to the word 'façade'. Lol. Review after you read please!

I am many things. I am nothing. I am a multi-faceted façade.

Quistis Trepe. My name. My mask.

I am SEED Instructor Quistis Trepe, teaching SEED cadets within the famed Balamb Garden. A golden lioness towering above many a young cub, paw ready to knock much-needed knowledge into their empty heads. A goddess amongst the obsessively infatuated Trepies, a golden haired epitome of perfection, a maddeningly beautiful genius.

I am child prodigy Quistis Trepe. At 10, I was dumped at the doorstep of the floating Balamb Garden, left to fend for myself. At 15, I graduated and became a full-fledged SEED member. At 17, I was no longer just a full-fledged SEED member, I was a full-fledged SEED Instructor. I taught students who were my age, I taught the famed Squall Leonheart, I taught the notorious Seifer Almasy. I taught them all.

I am elite military SEED Quistis Trepe. Armed with my deadly whip, my beloved Save the Queen, demurely dressed in an unflattering peach ensemble. Many fiends have been lured into my grasp by my seemingly innocuous exterior, then vanquished with Save the Queen, the embodiment of my inner might. Fighting against the grotesquely majestic Ultimecia, I emerged victorious. Nothing can withstand the strike of my whip.

I am idol Quistis Trepe. My unwanted, inanely devoted fans, the Trepies, lust after me, long to be remotely like me, long for my slightest glance at them to make their day. They follow me, dog me. Trepie cards flash around everywhere, my face, my solemn, overly serious face, staring back at me at every corner. Their words, their Elizabethan poetics, dripping in honey, are cascaded upon me every moment of the day. I am their goddess, I am their life.

I am fated child Quistis Trepe, one of the liberi fatali. The Teacher. My destiny is to help destroy Ultimecia, to teach those who play a part in the destruction of the Sorceress, to provide the guidance, the knowledge, the strength for the other liberi fatali. When the others feel as though there is no way of continuing, they can fall back on me. I am the taller one, the more experienced one, the older, more reliable one. My destiny is to be the Teacher, and then to be dismissed when I have worn out my usefulness.

I am Blue Mage Quistis Trepe, possessor of devastating magical power and glowing blue eyes. A single paramagical spell, and even the strongest of foes are vanquished. Those who dare look into my inhumane blue eyes never immerge from the cloud of dust to tell the tale. A Sorceress in every sense but the darkness, the possessor of magic parallel to none other.

I am unloved Quistis Trepe. Reminiscent of my 'misunderstood love', reminiscent of Squall Leonheart, the unattainable, aloof wall, Rinoa's lover. Selphie has Irvine. Zell has his library girl. Rinoa has Squall. I have no one. They're all pairs, I'm but the leftover. They have love, I have but an immense loneliness, a great hole where love should be. They have the other half of their soul, I have an empty space where that other half remains missing.

I am something I should not be. I am everything, and nothing at the same time. I am the proud, beautiful, perfect Quistis Trepe, yet I am not her at all.

Who am I?

My name is Quistis Trepe. I am not her. She's just a multi-faceted façade. I am a contradiction.

When can they look past the façade? When can they look past the mask? When can they see me?

Everyone is blind. Everyone is a fool. Everyone is so mesmerized by the perfection, the beauty, the genius of my exterior, of my costume, they fail to look as see within. Everyone admires, looks up to, falsely loves Quistis Trepe. Who loves me?

Quistis Trepe. My name. My mask. My costume. A simple robe I wear about me, a cloak that fits so loosely, that billows out and surrounds me, hiding me within its enormous interior. A lie. Quistis Trepe is a lie. Quistis Trepe is nothing but a lie, a façade, an invention of my mind to enable the society to accept me. Quistis Trepe is false. I am real. I am the truth. I am a contradiction. I am not here.

Sometimes, sometimes someone can see me. Sometimes I can feel a beam of light shine in through a tiny, tiny hole in my mask, shining down onto me, and I rejoice. I jump, I shout, I beg for attention, I hope that this isn't just some fleeting moment of falseness when the gods decided to play with me. Of course, that's exactly what it is. The moment I thank Hyne that someone has finally noticed me, the light dims, fades, disappears, leaving me in the darkness again.

Perhaps one day I will come to terms with myself and my mask, and learn to live as Quistis Trepe. But for now...

Quistis Trepe is many things, and she is nothing at the same time. She is a multi-faceted façade. What am I? I am a contradiction.


End file.
